Human error
by claw06
Summary: Summary: Jim Moriarty always knew that Sherlock Holmes belong to him in every way. So when the detective is brutally assaulted after an argument with John Watson there will be hell to pay... after all no one harms Jim's toys but him. However, unbeknownst to anyone the attack effects Sherlock more than he's willing to show. NONCON; SHERIARTY.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not nor have I ever owned Sherlock. If I did I wouldn't still live with my mom. **

**Summary: Jim Moriarty always knew that Sherlock Holmes belong to him in every way. So when the detective is brutally assaulted after an argument with John Watson there will be he'll to pay... after all no one harms Jim's toys but him. However. unbeknownst to anyone the attack affects Sherlock more than he's willing to show. **

**A/ n: I am still working on the next installment for Malificent. It should be ready in a few days. So until then enjoy. :-) **

************************Chapter One*************************

He couldn't even remember what their argument had been about. John had come in from the surgery in an irritable mood and Sherlock had tried to be considerate of that fact, however somehow they still ended up getting into an dispute. The argument. had ended with John calling him a sociopathic freak and Sherlock storming out masking his hurt with anger. Now as he lay battered and bleed into in an alley only three blocks from Baker St. he found himself regretting the entire thing and wondering dazedly what had started it in the first place. His attackers a large group of broad shouldered drunk men, had long since fled and the detective shivered fighting the tears that wanted to overtake him so badly.

Footsteps, light almost inaudible, approached his prone form and he whimpered trying to force himself away from the newcomer.

"P-please. No more. "

He begged brokenly, flinching as a cold callous hand made it's way into his hair. "Sh, sh child. I mean you no harm. You did nothing to deserve such a fate. I will help you get revenge."

Came a smooth baritone voice a few pitches deeper than his own._** Male. Married. Older than he appeared. **_

The broken man shook his head weakly. "No, I-I don't want it. I just want to go home and forget this night ever happened."

Suddenly the newcomer gave a cold laugh his hand tightening in Sherlock 's thick dark curls. "Seems I have chosen correctly. After all the best people to give power is those that do not wish for it. Brace yourself. "

Before Sherlock could question the warning the man wrenched his head to the side and bit down into his throat.

A silent scream of agony left the detective as a burning sensation rushed from the wound and spread throughout his battered frame, dimly aware of the newcomer stroking his hair gently and speaking to him in what sounded like Latin. He paid it no heed, focusing instead on the searing white hot agony coursing through him. It felt as if every wound he had ever been dealt had each reopened all at one before being doused in acid. Crying out the detective curled into a tiny ball shaking and trying to comfort himself through the pain. Distantly he wondered who exactly he had pissed of to be so brutalized twice in one night. He also felt his current assailant redressing him from the other assault.

"P-please. " He sobbed feeling his Monday strain under everything that had happened in the past few hours. "Make it stop! P-please! Please! "

"Sh, it'll stop soon. Sh, you're okay. They can't hurt you anymore." Soothed the man and Sherlock whimpered thanking every deity in the world as he slipped into blessed unconciousness.

John paced the room worriedly as he waited for Sherlock to return from wherever he had run to after their arguement the day before. The younger man hadn't returned to their flat after the fight which unusual even for the eccentric detective. In fact everytime they had an arguement, the man would storm out and go bother the Mets or he would lie on the couch while John storm out and went to the pub for a few hours. Then they would text the other to let them know they were alright.

Sherlock hadn't done either of those. He had phoned Lestrade already and the DI had informed him that Sherlock had never shown up at the yard and that they had been trying to reach him all morning. John had even tried to call the genius himself but the phone went straight to voicemail. At this point he was growing extremely worried and extremely desperate. He was about three seconds away from calling Mycroft for help.

Groaning, the doctor sank down into his chair, guilt coursing through him. This was all his fault. He come in from the surgery in a bad mood yesterday because he had lost a patient on the table and Sarah had been angry at him once more for snapping at her about her opinion of Sherlock. Of course the detective had tried to be helpful in his own way but instead of helping all he had done was piss John off more and he had snapped. Even now nearly ten hour later John could remember the brief hurt expression that had flitted across his friend's face as he called him a 'sociopathic freak with no regard for others. '

It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. Taking a deep breath he resolved to give Sherlock one more hour to reappear before he called in Mycroft to help look for him.

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"Did you sleep well, Childe? "

Came a silky baritone voice, the same voice from the night before. Sherlock ignored the question turning to get a good look at the owner of the voice. He was a male with long crimson hair that fell down his back in loose curls and calm mint green eyes. He wore a form fitting black suit that emphasized his large muscular physique with a matching black dress shirt.

Automatically Sherlock's mind began deducing.

_**Wealthy, extremely so but not overly conspicuous about it. Happily married for more than 20 years. Motherly Wife. Looks to be no older than mid thirties but is most likely older. Honest man with high morals but will retaliate if threatened. Tread carefully, supernatural aura. Status: Dangerous. **_

"Who are you? " He asked softly bypassing the man's question entirely. Said man chuckled not minding in the least.

" My name is Caderyn DeLaRose. I found you in the alley last night after you were beaten and... assaulted by those animals. Speaking of which, are you alright?" The detective nodded slowly, before hesitantly placing a hand over the spot where he had been bitten, wincing in rememberance of the mind numbing pain he had suffered as a result.

"What did you do to me? " He rasped noting absently that all of his senses felt enhanced, as if they had been magnified on an enormous scale. A sad look crossed Caderyn's aristocratic features and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "What are you?

"Excuse me? "The man asked shocked and Sherlock frowned.

" You are not human, you can't be. You move with a strange, nearly feline gait. You are older than you appear, not just nuns few years but by decades. And last night when you... bit me, you said you were giving me is not something a human would say. In fact if I had to guess your species I'd probably say vampire or werewolf. What are you? What have you done to me? "

The creature blinked. "That was amazing. How do you did you do that? "

"I merely observed. "

"How?! You were practically half dead when I found you last night and know for a fact you passed out before you saw me. "

"As I said I merely observe. Now please, the question."

The elder male pouted. "Fine. I am a Vampire. There aren't many of us, in fact ours is the last coven left. "

"Ours? "

" Yep. You're one of us now ,pup. Don't worry it's not as bad as humans write in their little books. We are immortal...sort of. The only way to kill us is by beheading us with a blade coated in vampire blood. We drink blood but we don't take enough to kill. Generally we can survive on one pint of blood a week and human food but it is healthier just to have a glass of blood at breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday, hence why we get ours from the blood bank.

Sunlight, crosses, and garlic do not affect us, that is a myth. We only need to sleep maybe three hours a week. And we stop aging once we hit 35 years old. Also your coven is your family. Your sire, me of course, is the you direct alpha. As such you will be compelled to garner comfort from them rather than somdone else. There are no laws, but if you tell anyone of your change make sure they can keep it to themselve I think that's it. "

Sherlock nodded closing his eyes briefly to absorb the information, startling as his sire took a seat on the bed and gently grasped his hand.

"What is your name, Little One. "

"Sherlock Holmes. "

Caderyn nodded then bit his lip. " Do you have anyone you need to call? "

Hesitating, the dark haired man nodded. "My flatmate. "

Smiling the elder handed him his phone and stood. My wife will be in shortly with you clothing and to help you get you crest. "

" My crest? "

"Yes. Everyone in our family wears one. You are family so you will need one as well. Lizzy, my mate, helps our children figure out how they wish to wear it, whether it be as a necklace, or a watch, something. Also, your siblings will be in to meet you after Lizzy. " Sherlock nodded dialing the familiar number of his blogger. Shooting his new childe a soft smile, the vampire left the room to give him some privacy.

The phone rang , once, then twice, then...

"Sherlock? "

Relief flooded the detective as the doctor's worried voice sounded on the other end.

" John. "

" Christ, Sherlock, where the hell are you? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is?! "

Despite himself, Sherlock flinched violently at the harsh rebuke in his friend's voice and bit his lip.

" John, I just stayed the night a hotel. I figured you needed time away from this 'sociopathic freak'. " He responded coldly, shoving his feeling into a room deep with in his mind palace and locking the door. He could practically hear the man's answering flinch and guilt.

"Sherlock, I didn't mean that and it was wrong of me to say that. I'm sorry. "

"John, Don't say sorry for being right.I'll be home later. Bye."

Hanging up before the other could speak, he gave a quiet sigh and tossed the phone onto the nightstand, before taking in his surroundings. He was a large elegant bedroom decorated in pale blues and soft creams. The bed he was lying on was a king sized pillow top covered in silk white sheets and a thick downy soft blue comforter. The floor was polished marble with glowing blue designs in it.

"This is your room, love. Whenever you wish to stay, this room is all yours. "

Sherlock jerked, startled, and turned his piercing silver-green-blue gaze tower the door. The woman standing in the doorway was gorgeous with long ebony hair and warm hazel blue eyes. She wore a sleek royal blue dress with crimson embroidery, that emphasized her generous bust and slender figure. Once more his mind set about deducing.

_**Caderyn's mate. Maternal. Russian descent. Physical age, 35. Medical profession, once not anymore, too much death. Loves children and small animals. Worried for... me?**_

Puzzled by that deduction, he tilted his head.

"You are concerned... about me. No one does that... other than John... and mummy on occasion. "

Lizzy blinked. " Of course I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You are my son. "

Shock hit him once more. " Really? "

No one had said that to him in years. His parents loved him of course, but they tended to fear his intellect and ended up treating him different from how they treated Mycroft. Ducking his head feeling a bit shy all of a sudden, he blushed at the raw hope in his voice. His sire's mate softened at his words and pulled him into a deceptively strong embrace.

"Of course, love. You are my son just as the others are my children. What's your name, Childe ? "

" Sherlock. " He responded softly curling into the embrace on instinct.

Lizzy smiled. "I've never met a Sherlock before. I like it. "

A tiny but genuine smile crossed Sherlock's lips shocking the vampire with how it transformed the already beautiful man.

His eyes warmed from their pale silver-blue-green into a pale turquoise, full pink lips curled in the slightest of ways. Shaking her head she pulled away from the embrace and stroked his hand with her own dainty ones. "So how would you like to wear our family crest, Lockie? "

Her son hummed thoughtfully then nodded to himself.

"I'd like to wear it as a choker, it's the most practical option. "

"Oh? "

" Yes, I work with my hands so can't get it as a ring. A normal necklace is much too loose... and I don't like anything wrapped around my arm."

He explained calmly as her stood and began to get dressed showing no care for modesty much to her shock. She had been the one to clean him up as he had turned and as such she knew exactly what those humans had done to her baby the night before. Not even her husband knew just how brutally the had hurt him.

"How can you stand being so exposed after what they did to you last night?"

She whispered and he blinked then gave her a grim chuckle.

"You are a woman and you are one of my mother's. Had it been any male but father I assure you I'd be alot less calm. "

Nodding the woman threaded her hand through his and led him from the room.

"Come , everyone should be in the dining room."

Sherlock said nothing, following her silently and observing everything around him. He noted that the house they were in was an elegant three story mansion. Bedroom approximation,anywhere between ten and twenty each with its own bathroom. The decor was a rather tasteful mixture of soft creams, velvety blacks,and silky blues. The floor was a nicely polished marble with the family crest painted in the middle. The crest was a crimson shield with a black border. Inside of the shield was a pale blue rose, two dangerous black vipers twined around the stem fangs poised for was admittedly a very nice design.

They stopped outside of a the dining room, realizing something very important.

"It's soundproof. "

Lizzy nodded. "All four of you siblings are mated to each other. It would be a bit strange if we could all hear eachother and since some couples don't seem to know where their couplings are supposed to take place we had to soundproof every room in the house. "

Nodding at the answer, the detective steeled his nerves and entered the room.

Inside where three male vampires and one female. His mind automatically deduced each one.

The first male was a slender male, his height with shoulder lenght blond hair and icy blue eyes. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans and a baby blue poet shirt.

_**Youngest. Gay. Mated. Older than appears. Likes stuffed animals. Wants children but afraid to speak of it. Profession: student at uni. Area of study: Photography. **_

The second male was built more like Caderyn's broad muscled frame and height. He had close cropped black hair and curious jade eyes. His skin was a smooth lightly tanned and went well with his loose crimson jeans and black vneck t-shirt.

_**Second Youngest. Gay, mated to the first male. Weary of strangers but willing to adjust. Above average intelligence. Former soldier. Wounded in action. Psychosomatic trauma in wrist. Quiet but not anti-social. **_

The third male was by far the easiest with his wild crimson hair and roguish grin. He was a pair of well worn blue jeans and a loose white wife beater that showed off his muscular frame.

_**Fun loving. Adrenaline Junkie. Caderyn and Lizzy's son biologically. Loves video games, especially the violent ones. Mated to the female. Protective of family. Profession: Mechanic. **_

And finally the female. She was a classical beauty with long russet curls and smooth Carmel skin. Her eyes were a warm hazel green that seemed to welcome him.

_**Oldest. Mated to the mechanic. Of native American descent. Cautious of strangers but not overly so. Fashion consious but not conceded. Pianist. **_

It took him less to make and log the deductions into his mind palace. Just as her finished, Lizzy ushered him into a chair beside the youngest.

"Everyone, this is your new brother, Sherlock. Lockie, dear, these are your brother's, Matthew "-the mechanic gave a lazy wave-" Jared, "-the soldier nodded in acknowledgement- " and Alec."- The blond gave him a weary look and cautious wave.-" And this is your sister, Emma."

"Nice to me you,Sherlock."

He nodded, shying away as Matthew moved to hug him, revulsion making his skin brother frowned, hurt.

"Ain't gonna hurt ya,pup. Just wanted to welcome ya to the family."

Sherlock hmmed at his words , but turned to Jared, repeating the same words he had said to john nearly six months previous.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

" did you-?"

"Your haircut screams military, not british though so american. Your hands and face are tanned but theres no tan line above the wrist. You've been abroad but not on vacation. Haircut,tan line, wounded in action, psychosomatic injury, afghanistan or Iraq."

He explained patiently, shrugging as they all stared at him. "That was amazing!" Alec exclaimed makinthe others nod in agreement. He frowned and tilted his head at the response, before pushing away his confusion at their reactions for a later date.

"Are you some sort of psychic? " Lizzy asked curiously and he shook his head.

"Consulting detective, only one in the world. I invented the job? "

"Consulting detective? "

"Yes. It means whenever the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me. "

They all nodded.

"So were you on a case when dad found you? " Emma inquired and his facial expression went blank. "No. "

"Okay so just to be clear you're not some sort of psychopath, right? " Matthew joked, only to blink as his brother shook his head. "High functioning sociopath. "

"You're serious. " Jared deadpanned and Sherlock nodded.

"Well, That's new. "

_**TBC...**_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock.

**A/ N: The next chapter of Malificent is slow coming along, My damn tablet erased most of what I had for the story so instead of posting the next few chapters today like planned I have to go and rewrite. them. Thank you guys for being patient, hopefully it'll be up soon. In the mean time enjoy the next installment of Human Error. **

**Mari:* sighing* Does anyone even read author's notes any more? **

****************Chapter Two********************

It was late in the evening when Sherlock returned to Baker St. By this time John was beside himself with worry and had even called Mycroft, who was also present when the sleuth returned. When he entered the flat, the doctor jumped to his feet.

"Where the hell have you been? What the hell did you mean on the phone? " He yelled and his friend recoiled violently silver and sky eyes wide.

Mycroft frowned at the reaction, reasons for it running through his mind only to be swiftly discarded. Surely the good doctor hadn't been abusing his little brother... right? He glanced at Dr. Watson, noting that he too seemed puzzled by the response. How curious. Obviously if he had been hurting the detective. he would've expected this reaction, however his shock assured him that the man was innocent of such accusations. Therefore he couldn't help but wonder why he had reacted in such a fashion. Suddenly, he realized where he had seen that reaction. A few years ago Anthea's daughter had been brutally beaten and raped while on her way home from school. The girl had displayed much the same reaction Sherlock had when confronted with anger and had killed herself only days after the attack. Dread and fear pooled in his gut and he found himself hoping fervently that he was wrong. Just this once.

"May I speak to you in private, Brother mine? "

The younger Holmes frowned forcing the fear from his features. "No. "

Expecting the response, Mycroft pursed his lips, trying to find a way to get the other to listen to him only for his eyes to catch sight of the beautiful leather choker wrapped around his little brother 's throat. The band of it was an inch thick with a strange crest situated perfectly in the middle.

_**New, recieved it this morning. Hand made by a woman over the age of fifty. Made only moments before being given to Sherlock. Prized possession. **_

His gaze moved to his brother's clothes.

_**Same clothing as yesterday. Washed this morning and mended. Attacked, clothing was ripped. Button on trousers was torn off but sewn back on. Oh Gods, Sherly. Who dared to hurt you that way. **_

Sherlock met his eyes briefly, then looked away, knowing that his brother had deduced what had happened to him... or part of it. John frowned looking between the two before snorting. Obviously he was being left out of something big.

"What the hell is going on?! "

He snapped and this time Sherlock glared at him. "Nothing! I just stayed at a hotel alright?! Sebastian Wilkes rented a room for me! " He yelled in annoyance, before storming out of the room and into his bedroom., slamming the door behind him. Mycroft sighed and stood.

"Keep an eye on him, John. My brother is not the best at making good decisions when they concern himself. "

This said the man left the flat, leaving John alone wondering what the hell was happening and what Sherlock was hiding from him.

_Hands. Cruel, cold, callous hands gripped his hair roughly, their owner smirking down at his battered frame. "Not so clever now are ya? " _

_The man sneered at him and he glared at him, jerking as his assailant's drunk friends laughed, hands tugging at his clothing. He struggled as hard as he could, fear overiding his logic as he realized exactly what they planned to do to him. _

_"No! No, don't! " He shrieked kicking one of the men who snarled and stomped down hard on his leg. It snapped easily wrenching a scream of pure agony from the genius. The leader, the man holding his hair shoved a dirty rag into his mouth while another man gripped his wrists tightly. Terrified beyond belief, he didn't even notice that his clothing had been removed until something was forced into him. White hot pain surged through him and he felt as if he was being split in half, body clenching trying to force the intrusion out. _

_Without even pausing the man inside him began to thrust harshly, obscene grunts and groans leaving his throat. Sherlock screamed and continued to fight, tears streaming down his face as his mind shattered more and more with each thrust. "Shit look at ya. So pretty an' broken. " The leader slurred drunkly palming his own arousal as he watched them. More obscene groans and grunts sounded around him and the detective felt his stomach turn as he realized that they were all getting off one his suffering. All six of these men were __**enjoying **__watching him break. He vomited and one of the men laughed, driving the makeshift gag, only to shove himself into the brunette's mouth roughly. Horrified, Sherlock bit down as hard as he could causing to man to cry out and punch him in the face. Jerking himself from his captive's mouth, he glared down at him and Sherlock couldn't help but to smirk before he retreated far into his mind away from the horror that was reality. _

A choked gasp left Sherlock's lips as he bolted awake trembling violently with self loathing and emotional agony as he recalled exactly what he had been dreaming about. A month had passed since that horrific night and yet he still wasn't able to put it behind him. During the day it was easy to hide, he made sure not to deviate much from his usual personality saving his breakdowns for when he was alone. Lizzy and Caderyn helped him, of course, being the only ones that knew what had happened and his new siblings helped him adjust to his new species quite well. He and Emma got along the best, however and that is whom he spent most of his time with when he left Baker St. She listened to as he spoke but didn't judge him, instead choosing to chastise him gently whenever he became a bit harsh.

Of course out of the entire coven, he was closest to Caderyn and had even taken to calling the man Father, or in the case really bad nightmares, Papa. The ancient vampire was extremely patient with him , often holding him when everything became too much. He regaled him with tales of time long since past and was the father Sherlock could remember wishing for all those years ago.

Strong familiar arms wrapped around him and he whimpered turning his face into his sire's throat.

"Sh, feed, pup, then we'll talk. " For a moment he wanted to disagree but in the end he did as bid allowing his fangs to sink into the elder male's tender flesh. Blood, rich and warm, flooded his mouth and he suckled on the wound reveling in the feelings of warmth and safety that came through their bond. It made him wonder why he neglected to feed as often as he was supposed to. A quiet sound from his sire drew him back to reality and he pulled away, full and content. Licking the wound closed, he looked up at the one man he now trusted the most.

"Are you alright now, Lockie? " Caderyn rumbled calmly and Sherlock nodded, having given up on dissuading his papas horrible nicknames for him weeks ago. His papa scowled and gently grabbed his face forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Sherlock, I felt your distress all the way at the manor. It was so strong your mother felt it. "

"I refused to let him come without me. " Lizzy added drawing her cub's attention and Sherlock bit his lip. "Sorry. " He rasped and the matronly vampire frowned.

"Don't apologize , love. Come on, talk to us. " She coaxed. The detective sniffled tears filling his eyes as the self-loathing returned with a vengence, dragging hate, anger, and pain with it. "They-they - I wasn't strong enough and they kept taking and taking and taking! They kept shattering my mind and I - I hate them! I hate the fact that I let them take that from me! the one pure thing I had left! " He sobbed forcing himself to keep his voice down lest he wake didn't hide the anguish in his voice however and Lizzy gave a soft sniffle tears streaming down her cheeks as she cupped his face in her strong gentle hands.

"What happened to you was NOT your fault in ANY way! You are an amazing person and for those pathetic bags of pus to have hurt you that way was a cruelty I wouldn't wish upon ANYONE. Do you understand me William Sherlock Scott Holmes DeLaRose.?" She whispered fiercely and he gazed at her brokenly, wanting to believe her words with all his heart. A black tear fell from his silver cyan eyes and she gave him a tiny smile. "Trust me. Trust us. "

"I hate them. " He finally whispered after a moment of silence a second black tear joining the other until they streamed in steady trails down his porclein cheeks. Caderyn gave a quiet growl behind him pulling him closer. "Then end them. " He rumbled and a soft manic giggle left Sherlock giving them a glance at just how broken there beloved fledgling was. "Oh no worries, I will and they will regret the moment they first set their sites on me. One way or another they will **PAY. " **

Jim Moriarty was concerned.

For the past few weeks he had been watching his beloved playmate and he had noted that there was something very wrong with the other man.

First he had disappeared off the consulting criminals radar for almost 19 when he returned he had even lied to his little pet about having the bully from his past rent him a hotel room refusing to say anymore on the subject.

Secondly, there was the way he'd sometimes leave 221b long after Dr. Watson had gone off to bed ,not returning until a mere half hour before the doctor rose.

Then there were the smaller less noticeable things. The way he recoiled when touched or startled. The way he unoticeably shied away from muscular men and those bigger than his. The worsening of his already eating and sleeping patterns due to nightmares and loss of appetite. Even the way he went about crimes gave away the fact that something was wrong, his eyes lacking the pleased glow and smug arrogance they usually hold after discovering something obvious yet missed by the ordinary simpletons he continued to work with.

Yes something was definately wrong with his detective... and he would find out what.

After all a broken playmate was is no fun and no one is allowed to break Sherlock Holmes... except for him , of course.

**TBC...**

**A/ N: Idk how well this chapter came out. My damn auto correct kept changing stuff. I went back and fixed what I could find but let me know if you find something I missed. **

**-Claw. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Of course I own Sherlock, that's why I'm not British, famous, or rich. It all makes sense now.**

***************Chapter Three********************** *************

Emma smiled softly as her and Sherlock lounged in the family room, her new sibling rambling on and on about his latest case and the complete idiocy of the Scotland Yard. Since his arrival almost nine weeks previous, the entire family had grown very protective of the detective, who they could had been hurt terribly by something even if he tried to hide it. She had her suspicions about what had been done to him, of all did, after all there was only so reasons why a handsome man like Sherlock would shy away from most bodily contact if the other seeing was a , they refused to confirm those suspicions unsure if they'd be able to control their bloodlust if proven correct.

The vampire ran a gentle hand through her baby brother's soft curls, forcing the thoughts away to focus on the tale being spun by the younger. Just as he wrapped up the story his phone beeped. He frowned and tilted his head curiously, as did she. After all, it was three a. m., there was no reason for anyone to be contacting him and the Lestrade never text him after one a. m. Emma raised an eyebrow when a slow dark smile crossed his features after reading the text and she peaked over his shoulder to view the message. It read:

_'Sneaking out? How very naughty of you and you left your pet all alone, none the wiser. ' - JM_

_"_Someone special, Lockie? " She asked and he chuckled softly drawing the attention of Matt, who had just entered the room. "Oh, Lockie got a boyfriend? " Sherlock blushed faintly but shook his head. "Moriarty is not my boyfriend. I don't do relationships. " Emma tilted her head.

"Then who is he? "

Sherlock smirked. "An insane psychopath that fancies himself as my enemy and has assured me that he will burn a heart out of me. "

The couple stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. They found none and Matt gaped. "You're serious? "

"Yes. The game we play is the most exhilarating distraction I've ever had. "

"Game? " Emma questioned, wondering just how sane her brother was. Her mate was wondering the same thing and it showed in his incredulous expression.

He nodded. "He is a consulting criminal. Most of my cases are of his creation. Never have I had such an interesting opponent. "

"You're insane. " Matt muttered,while Sherlock text the criminal back.

_'My nightlife is none of your concern, Moriarty.' -SH _

_'Oh? A virgin with a nightlife? Does Johnny-Boy know? ' -JM _

Sherlock flinched violently at those words, memories of that bigger flashing behind his eyes, reminding him that now even that innocence had been taken from him. Emma and Matt scowled at the words, his reaction confirming their suspicions. "When? " she growled lowly paying Alec and Jared no mind as they entered with their parents.

Lizzy made a worried noise as she say the distress in his features, but he shook his head with a brittle smile and turned to his big sister.

"The night I was turned. " He responded honestly, reveling in the soothing feel of her slim fingers massaging his scalp. "My flatmate and I got in argument and I stormed out. They got me when I was heading home from the New Scotland Yard. After it was over, they ran and Papa found me. " He explained absently as he sent a reply to his enemy.

_'My virginity has nothing to do with mentioning it. ' -SH _

_'Aw, no fun. Fine. New Case. 8 a. m. Come play. ' -JM _

_'Game on. '-SH_

Sherlock grinned, feeling more like himself than he had since this entire fiasco had begun. Caderyn blinked at the sudden change, watching his childe's silvery blue green eyes light up at the words. Obviously, the childe felt more for this Moriarty than even he realized and if anyone could help him heal it was this psychopath. He chuckled softly, while his other children encircled the detective protectively, still realing from his confession. Everything would be alright... eventually.

Sherlock scowled darkly as he and John left their latest crime scene. The case left by Moriarty had been barely a six and he had been able to solve it in less than an hour. It irked him immensely. How was it that ordinary people did not see such obvious things. His phone buzzed and his scowl darkened. There was only two people it could be as John was beside him, and he had just spoken to Lestrade. In addition to that, Molly always called and his coven only text afternoon. As it stood, it was only nine a. m. leaving the only possible senders as Moriarty or Mycroft, neither of which he wished to speak to. Beside him, John frowned.

"Aren't you gonna answer that? "

The sleuth rolled his eyes at the question. "No it's either Mycroft or Moriarty. I don't care to speak to either of them at the moment. "

John stopped and stared at him. "Mori- Jesus Sherlock! Why are you still texting that psychopath?! "

"The game, John. " He responded as if that explained everything which to john it kind of did. Shaking his head in exasperation he followed the younger man as he hailed a cab. As they rode in the cab, John took a moment to exam his best friend. The man had started to withdraw from him after their fight the night of his mysterious 19 hour disappearing act and he refused to disclose any information what had really happened. In fact it was almost as if he truly thought that John would believe the ridiculous bullshit he had spewed about Wilkes renting a hotel for him. Then there was the beautiful choker he had returned wearing. When questioned about it. he would merely change the subject and the one time Mycroft had asked him to take it off he had nearly had a fit.

"Shut up. " Came a smooth voice and the doctor found himself looking up at the object of his thought, blinking.

"I didn't -"

"You were thinking, it's annoying. So stop. "

With a huff he moved to look away only for the choker around the other's neck to once again capture his attention. He had never been this close to it before, but now that he was he could see that it had 'Sherlock' emblazoned on it in spidery cursive. "It's hand made? " He asked curiously and Sherlock glanced at him briefly. "Yes. "

"Who made it? "

Sherlock didn't respond. Instead he brought one large yet delicate hand to the neck piece, curling his fingers around the crest gently. His mercurial eyes softened a small smile playing on his pale lips. It was a beautiful transformation, one John had never seen before and he knew without a doubt that had it not been for his own heterosexuality he'd have pursued a relationship with his precisely to watch him transformation this way again. As it stood a trill of fraternal protectivness ran through him and he found himself willing to do anything to protect this softer more fragile Sherlock. Anything, including breaking the sociopaths icy exterior if need be.

Jim was bored.

The promising criminal he had set to play with Sherlock had turned out to be dull and ordinary, so much so that he was actually ashamed he had sent him. Then there was the fact that his precious sociopath was upset with him because of said criminal, so much so that hwas actually refusing to respond to Jim's messages. He frowned at that thought. No, that just won't do. After all if he started to bore the beautiful detective the other would stop playing the game or find a new playmate like the Adler woman.

His frown deepened and he felt surge of possessiveness course through him. That couldn't be allowed to happen, at all. Sherlock was his. So how to entice the other out to play again? He pursed his lips on thought before a slow dark smile crossed his lips plans coming together in his mind. Oh, oh yes that was brilliant! The psychopath gave a low chuckle caressing the picture of Sherlock he had as a screen saver. It had been taken by one of his inside agents only days before Sherlock had met his pet doctor. The man's pale eyes were lit up with the exhilaration that came from solving a case , porclein cheeks flush with excitement. It was his favorite out the multitude of photos he had collected of the man over the years.

"Time to play, Sherlylocks. " He purred. Oh yes play indeed.

_HANDS._

_ . Punching. Bruising. Hurting.-Crack-_

_"Please-please stop! Please!_

_**'Ring around the Rosies'**_

_FEET. _

_Kicking. Broken bones. Bruised organs.-Crack-_

_"No! Stop! It Hurts! " _

_**'Sherlock's breaking slowly'**_

_Thrust. Punch. Kick. Gag.-Crack! _

_"p-please. " _

_**'Break him. Burn him. '**_

_Whimper. Choke. Grunt. Groan.-Crack. -_

_"N-no. " _

_**'His minds gone now.' **_

Sherlock jolted as a hand landed on his shoulder drawing him out of his memories and he looked to meet John's worried hazel eyes. "Are you alright, Sherlock? I've been trying to get your attention for almost five minutes now. " The sleuth nodded, supressing a shiver of utter disgust at the hand touching him. Why was John touching him? Didn't he know how filthy he was? Couldn't he see the dirt that clung to his skin with the same tenacity bubble gum stuck to hair? If so then why, why was he _touching _him?

His finger twitched, itching to scrub and scratch at his skin until he was clean again but he ignored the impulse. "What is it, John? I'm thinking."

The elder male frowned for a moment, noting how his first inquiry was ignored but choosing to let it go.

" I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for my date with Sarah. "

Nodding he watched as his friend left the flat. Once he was gone, the detective entered his bedroom, gathered some clean PJ's and locked himself in the bathroom. With extreme effort he managed to hold it together as he turned the shower up to it's highest temperature and undressed. It was only when he was under the scalding spray that he allowed his masks to fall and his solid control to break.

He scrubbed until his skin turned a raw pink and the water tinted a light pink. Until his throat was sore and torn from his hysterical screams and cries. As he cleaned himself his body shook harshly , remembering, reliving and it was all he could do to stay upright even as his knees went weak.

_"Shit look at ya. So pretty an' broken. " _

He whimpered at the phantom whisper, shoving his fist in his mouth as phantom touches and whispers overwlmed his mind.

_"Not so clever now are ya? _

_"Freak. " _

_"Whore. " _

_"Monster. " _

_"Psychopath. " _

Keening and teetering on the edge of madness, he collapsed to his knees and curled into as small a ball he could. As he rocked, a broken laugh left him and the haunting voice from his dream began to sing and unfamiliar melody. One that described him perfectly and he promised himself that he would store it and compose some music for it.

_**Playground school bell rings, again**_

_**Rain clouds come to play again**_

_**Has no one told you she's not breathing**_

_**Hello. **_

He calmed slowly and began to sing along as he dressed, despite knowing he had never heard the song before.

_**I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to**_

_**Hello. **_

He began to mentally compose a violin melody for it and as he moved about the living room, he gathered a notebook jotting down the notes. But he never stopped singing along.

_**If I smile and don't, believe**_

_**Soon I know I'll wake from this dream**_

_**Don't try to fix me I'm not broken**_

_**Hello**_

_**I'm the lie living for you so you can hide- **_

_**Don't cry**_

Tears filled his eyes as he sang and his voice grew stronger.

_**Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping**_

_**Hello **_

_**I'm still here! All that's left of yesterday **_

His voice broke on the last word and he began to cry, unaware that his brother had been just outside the door of his flat and had heard it all.

Mycroft felt his cold heart break as he listened to his brother sob, blood chilled as the words of the haunting song the younger had just sang rang throughout his head. No longer were his suspicions merely suspicions, they were fact. Someone had raped his baby brother... and he hadn't been there to protect him. He closed his eyes painfully and turned to leave, having come over to ask about the reports his surveillance team had given telling him Sherlock had snuck out. However now, shame coursed through him.

Had he really gotten so caught up in his political matters to pay attention to his brother? To protect him from heinous brutalities like this?

Even as he climbed into his car and settled into his seat beside Anthea, he knew that the answer was a resounding yes.

With this thought and this revelation in mind Mycroft, for the first time in almost twenty years, allowed himself cry. He cried for his brother's stolen innocence and for his failure.

He cried and he prayed for forgiveness.

'_Oh God, Sherlock. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me... because I don't think I can forgive myself. ' _

_**TBC... **_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own guys, sorry.I'll sure we all wish we did...but we don't.**

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"Lizzy's missing." Caderyn announced as Sherlock entered the family room. The detective froze at his words, being the only one who heard the edge in his sire's voice. Two weeks had passed since his breakdown and since he had visited his family so he had snuck out to visit as soon as John had gone to bed.

"When was she last seen?" He asked softly curling up on the loveseat beside his sire whose broad arms wrapped around him with a faint tremble.

"Two days ago. She went to Tescos to get some ingredients for a cake she planned to bake and she never came home." Emma whispered and Caderyn's arms tightened around the newborn vampire in his lap.

"She hasn't called or text anyone either and all I'm getting from our matting bond is static. She's unconscious but alive." The elder murmured. Sherlock frowned deeply.

"This actually sounds alot like the case I'm currently working. Four people have been kidnapped from Tescos in the past two weeks. Unfortunately since this isn't normally my specialty Lestrade didn't call me in until today."

His father began to tremble his grip on him nearly tight enough to break him as he spoke in a soft sad voice.

"Have any of the victims been found?"

Turning in his embrace, Sherlock have him a reassuring smile cupping his face in his large delicate hands. "No, however this means there's a chance they're alive. . ." He promised firmly allowing his emotions to shine through in his pale eyes. He showed his determination and his hope as well as the small glint of manic he normally tried to hide from the other. Caderyn gazed back then gave him a bleak smile. He didn't respond just allowed his grip on his son to slacken and the slender man nuzzled him reassuringly. The others cuddled closer to the two and they lay there together until the sun rose taking comfort in the presence of each other.

Jim was in a wonderful mood. Why, you may ask? Because his newest game for Sherlock had just begun. He had kidnapped five people and left false clues for the detective to follow when really all five victims were with Jim. Then when the detective found them he'd make him choose between his pry and one of the victims. It was brilliant! Cackling to himself the consulting criminal sent Moran to check on their prisoners watching on his screen as his detective approached the crime scene of the latest victim, Dr. Watson in tow. Life was good.

/

The clues were fake.

Sherlock realized this the second he stepped onto the crime scene where Lizzy had been 'blood' found at the crime scene was actually high fructose corn syrup dyed red. Lizzy's mobile lay on the ground along with the bags of ruined ingredients and the woman's purse.

_**She was taken from here but she wasn't injured. The kidnapper wants us to believe the victims were hurt. All the victims are alive!**_

Eyes widening at his realization the sleuth turned to Lestrade. "The blood is fake. It corn syrup. The kidnapper wants us to believe that the victims were killed but all of them are alive and were unharmed when they were almost like-" He paused and his eyes got even wider. "Moriarty."

In his pocket his phone buzzed and he pulled it out, pursuing his lips as he read the message.

_Got it in one,Sherlylocks. You know I just love Surrey.-Jm_

"Sherlock, What is it?" Lestrade questioned and his friend glanced at him, pale eyes full of something indescribable.

"Your kidnapper, he's holding them in Surrey. Its Moriarty."

Nodding the DI wrote his deductions down noting the slight tremors running through the younger man and the exhaustion he was trying to hide.

"Are you alright, Sherlock?"

The sleuth frowned in confusion tilting his head to the side.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You look exhausted, mate."

The other pursed his lips before he sighed. "I'm 's go."

Lestrade frowned watching the slender man leave. He didn't believe Sherlock was fine. In fact , the other hadn't been the same since his 19-hour disappearance months avoided rape cases with abhorrence and he refused all forms of physical contact. In addition to this, John had informed him that Sherlock had started sneaking out once he thought The doctor was asleep which led Lestrade to believe that he had started his more unsavory recreational activities. Sighing he resolved to watch the other closer and figure out what the hell was going on with him, praying that his current conclusion was wrong.

One month.

Lizzy had been missing for one month and Caderyn could feel himself losing hope. Of course he hid his feelings from his children as best he could yet somehow Sherlock always knew.

Sherlock. The crimson haired man smiled sadly at the thought of his youngest child. The newborn was closer to him than any of his other children despite bring the youngest because he saw the elder as his savior. It was both worrying and endearing. He liked knowing he was loved by his Childe yet he knew that with the fragile state the other was in, he was the only thing keeping him from tipping over the edge. Not only that, he could tell that the vixen was working himself to exhaustion to reunite him and Lizzy. It made his heart heavy and he found himself wishing that the consulting criminal Sherlock was so enamored with knew what was wrong with his son. Maybe the man would be the one to heal the beautiful detective.

The door to his bedroom opened and the object of his thoughts entered telling and pale, eyes full of fatigue.

"Lockie?"

His son looked up at him and collapsed on his arms , exhausted."

"We found them. Lestrade sent us home to rest because we're going in tomorrow. As far as we know all of the victims are alive and well."

A vivid smile crossed Caderyn's lips.

"I'm coming too. I want to see the criminal that has captured your heart."

Sherlock blushed vividly. "He- Moriarty isn't-its not like that!" He protested and his sire chuckled deeply pulling him into his strong embrace.

"He can heal you, Little One. When he texts you, you light up and you smile. Its a wonderful transformation. If this Moriarty is so much as mentioned in a sentence your entire focus is captivated. Your feelings for him run deeper than you realize. " The beauty stared at him then his eyes dulled and he looked away.

"Its merely excitement from the game, Papa, nothing more." He whispered in denial and Caderyn sighed realizing why his child was so adamant at denying himself.

"They are haunting you aren't they, love." In his arms Sherlock stiffened and didn't speak for a moment and when he did he avoided the question entirely.

"I need to go.I'm supposed to be at Angelo's getting dinner." The vampire lord sighed and dropped the subject placing a gentle kiss on the newborn's forehead. "Alright. Stay safe."

Nodding the slender man pulled away from him, kissing his cheek lightly. "I will." He replied and then he was gone.

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Mycroft for the first time in a very long time awakened in an unfamiliar place, tired to a chair. It was a position he hadn't been in since earlier in his career and admittedly not one he was very comfortable with, however he forced himself to stay calm and survey his surroundings. He was in a warehouse of some kind with five others all of whom were tired up as well. Of fellow captives there were two other males and three females, all unconscious. The two males were large broad shouldered men with tanned skin and dark hair. The females varied however.

The first had long platinum blonde hair and pale skin. She wore a tight plaid mini skirt and a bright pink tube top. She couldn't be older that eighteen.

The second woman had short chestnut colored hair that fell around her slack face in stylishly messy layers and lightly tanned skin. She wore a Loose crimson t shirt and a pair of black biker shorts that showed of her long shapely legs.

The last woman was the only other conscious captive. She had long ebony hair that fell down the back of the chair and framed her face, deathly pale skin, and warm hazel eyes. She wore a form fitting white summer dress covered in the grime that came from days in captivity. As their eyes met, she smiled.

"Its good to see that you're awake. Our captor thought his minion had accidentally killed you." She greeted with a thick Russian accent and he nodded slightly.

Before he could speak however, the door opened and their captive entered.

Moriarty.

The psychopath grinned at them as he entered. "Yay, you're awake. Good I thought you were gonna sleep through the fun. Especially you Mr. Holmes."

The woman across from Mycroft gave a sickly sweet smile. "And miss it when my husband find you and guys you like the spineless bag of pus you are? Never."

At her words Moriarty's glee grew. "There's only one person in the world that can keep up with me, madam. And I'm afraid your husband isn't it."

A mysterious smile crossed the vixen's blood red lips, her eyes flashing with a sort of untamed darkness that made even Moriarty recoil for a moment, yet she said nothing else.

"What exactly is your obsession with my brother, Moriarty?"

Mycroft growled. Since his discovery a month prior he had resolved to step up and do a better job protecting his brother and even while being held captive by the man that held his brothers concentration he refused to fail. Not this time.

Blinking, the consulting criminal's smile changed, softening slightly. Then spoke in a possessive, dangerous tone.

"He is _**mine**_."

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"Lestrade's waiting." Sally stated without preamble as Sherlock and John entered the NSY lobby. Following the woman they found themselves being led into a large conference room where Lestrade waited with several other officers including Anderson and DI Dimmick. The DI looked up at their arrival and nodded in acknowledgment before gesturing to the man beside him. "Everyone this is Lord Caderyn DeLaRose. He will be accompanying us to Moriarty's lair."

One of the officers snorted. "Why is a civilian accompanying us, especially with so little training?" He sneered only to find himself being shoved against the table harshly one arm being twisted roughly behind his back.

A deep familiar voice spoke in his ear. "Watch your words or I'll rip your tongue from your mouth and force you to coke on it." It rumbled softly to where only he could hear it. He swallowed harshly, Sighing on relief as the sociopath released him. Everyone else stared at Sherlock in shock while Caderyn chuckled softly.

"What the bloody hell was that ?" John hissed at his friend who shrugged and suppressed a flinch.

Recovering swiftly Lestrade shot his friend a look promising the would talk, and began to speak.

"Lord Caderyn is special ops trained and has been assigned to us by the Queen herself to help us rescue Mycroft Holmes and Lord DeLaRose's wife, Lady Elizabeth."

"Holmes, sir?" Anderson questioned shooting a look at Sherlock who had froze at the mention of his elder brother.

Sherlock drowned out his response, fear gripping his heart. How had they gotten Mycroft? Didn't the elder have a team of specialized bodyguards to prevent this from happening? A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and he jerked violently only to find himself looking into Caderyn's worried mint green eyes. Giving a slight nod to let the other know he was fine, he turned to follow Lestrade and the others from the room, never noticing how John looked between him and his sire suspiciously.

It was another half hour before the arrived at the warehouse they suspected Moriarty to be holding his victims in. A they approached the building The area around it suddenly lit up and the each found themselves with a red sniper laser aimed for their foreheads...

**TBC...**


End file.
